


An ice skating adventure

by Akemichan



Series: The YoI AU [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Skating, Alternate Universe - Sports, M/M, Minor Adam/Shiro - Freeform, Pre-Slash, Sort of Yuuri on Ice AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-14
Updated: 2019-09-14
Packaged: 2020-10-18 15:07:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20641175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Akemichan/pseuds/Akemichan
Summary: Shiro is everyone's favorite, and also the best skater out there.Keith is just a junior, but with an incredible talent.Becoming friends is juts destiny for them.Or also: Season 7 Episode 1 but with Ice Skating.For the Championsheith Week 4: Winter/Victory





	An ice skating adventure

_“How. Could. You?”_

_Keith’s tone is low, to contain the rage he’s feeling. It’s all concentrated in his hands and in the way he grips his cellphone, the message from Shiro’s grandfather still flashing in the screen._

_“There’s no reason to inform you or the others of the situation, especially because we haven’t precise information ourselves,” Iverson answers, calmly. “Shirogane’s health shouldn’t be your concern now. You have a competition to face.”_

_It takes all of Keith’s self-control to not punch Iverson here and there._

_“Like hell. I’m out.”_

_Ignoring Iverson’s complains and threats, Keith takes his bags, leaves the ice rink, buys a ticket and flies to Japan._

***

Takashi Shirogane sprouts in a year, going from a bush to a very tall tree.

His parents aren’t surprised enough to care.

His grandfather is proud, knowing his niece takes his genes.

His coaches are disappointed.

The suddenly grown causes Takashi inconveniences with his otherwise flawless jumps. Even with a perfect technique, the balance of his new body is different, and he has problems in jumping with all the extra weight.

One day he’s almost able to nail a quadruple Toeloop, the next day he loses the ability to complete a triple axel.

The annoyance of his coaches become clear the day they bring a new girl at the ice rink.

“She’s Shizuka Inoue. She’s looking for a partner to do pair, and the federation will be pleased to have more competitive pairs in the championship, to make the movement growing.”

The question is painful clear behind the introduction.

“I’m not interested in pairs,” Takashi replies. “With due all respect for Inoue-san, I’m pretty sure she’s an amazing skater.”

“Your body type is more suitable for pairs,” the coach insists. “Look at Kavaguti-Smirnov.”

“It’s our duty to advice you the best for your career, since you have so much talent,” another coach tells him. “Wouldn’t you like to make the story of Japan figure skater, being the first Japanese skater to even win a world medal in pairs?”

Takashi would lie if he says he won’t like to make history. But not like that, not being forced into a discipline he doesn’t like so much. If only he can prove them he can still be a competitive single skater…

“Unfortunately, we can’t guarantee we will be able to help you learning your jumps back.”

And that is it.

Takashi tells them to fuck off (well, he doesn’t exactly tell them that, but they understand very well by the way he takes his things and leaves the ice rink for good) and transfers for the summer to his grandfather’s place in Hokkaido.

He trains by himself, learning to move his now bigger body: he runs, he does more gym, and he regains the balance well enough to have all his triple jumps back. He also creates his own free program.

But he still needs a coach, something that can advocate for him with the federation and can organize things as transfers and such. Takashi is still a junior skater with no major victories under his sleeves, after all. He doesn’t have any sponsor to hold him up.

Takashi decides he won’t set up for nothing but the best. Which is the Garrison Ice School, in the USA.

His parents say a very loudly no.

His grandfather says a very great fuck, yes, and he pays Takashi the flight and the first fee for the entrance exams at the Garrison.

It takes a day on the ice rink for Director Sanda to decide.

And he becomes Shiro, for coaches, colleagues and fans alike.

***

Tex Kogane has been a hockey player at the local hockey team for several years.

He never became a professional, and ended up in a job that brought him very far from the ice, still he never forgot the feeling or his love for the sport. And he’s still a great fan of the Toronto Maple Leafs.

He’s only natural for Tex to hope his son will follow his step, as his only male child. They watch the matches together, they skated together and, of course, they went together to the training at the ice rink.

Keith Kogane is a small child, smaller for his age, but what he lacks on weight he catches up in fierceness.

Tex Kogane is very proud of him.

And Keith loves his father dearly, and he’ll do everything to make him happy.

Even playing a sport he doesn’t really enjoy, and waiting every time is father is late into picking him up after training.

“Keith,” Ulaz calls. “You father hasn’t arrived yet?”

Keith shrugs. “Probably he had an emergency at work.” It happens a lot with firemen, and Keith doesn’t blame his father for that.

“And your mother?”

“Still in Europe for her ballet show.”

As usual, the keeper of the ice rink can’t stand letting Keith alone, sitting down at the entrance stairs. “Come to my office, you can wait there.”

Keith nods. It’s not like it makes any difference.

The television of the office is turning on and showing a competition of figure skating; the ice rink has a small figure skating school, and Ulaz is interested in it as much, or maybe more, as hockey. Keith throws an uninterested look at the screen.

“It’s the Junior World Championship,” Ulaz informs him, as he offers him an apple juice.

“Uh-uh,” Keith comments, not really paying attention.

But there’s nothing to do in the office, and Ulaz is very enthusiastic about it. He knows the name of all athletes, he knows their music of choice, and he also has very strong opinions about the jury actions.

Keith finds himself looking at the competition with authentic interest.

“Oh, here comes Takashi Shirogane,” Ulaz comments, as a Japanese skater enters the ring, a silver suit on. “It’s his first world championship, and he’s third after the short program. I’m very curious to see what he can do.”

Takashi Shirogane surprises them both: Ulaz doesn’t expect him nailing a perfect program with two quadruple jumps, including a quad-triple combination, and Keith… Keith isn’t sure what he was expecting, but sure it wasn’t… that.

He finds himself unable to turn his eyes off Shirogane’s performance, his mouth half-opened in awe.

When his father arrives to pick him up, Keith hasn’t managed yet to scoff away the feeling of having watch something beautiful. Before that, only his mother’s performance has interested him so much.

But she is his mother.

Takashi Shirogane is… Keith can’t still define him yet, but sure he wants to find out.

“Uhm, dad…” he murmurs. “Would you mind much if I do a couple of figure skating lessons too? Just to try.”

And just as Keith, Tex can’t deny his son anything.

Krolia Kogane’s amused laugh at the news is very audible even from Europe.

***

Shiro volunteers to go. He likes kids and he feels the responsibility to be a good example for every young skater out there.

As the current Olympic Champion and two-time World Champion, Shiro is the living proof people can have second chance. That people can do thing if they strive enough.

He doesn’t mind being the face of the Garrison as long as he can be a positive model.

On the other side, young skaters love him. He isn’t much older than them, but he already accomplished so much and they sound more like fans that fellow colleagues.

“I’m sorry,” Thace comments, once Shiro has been assaulted by the crowd of kids what want a selfie or an autograph from him, or just touching him.

“It’s okay.” Shiro doesn’t mind. “Guys, please. One at the time.”

With patience, he pleases everyone.

Of all the kids in the ice rink, only one seems completely uninterested in Shiro. Shiro reserves him a small smile, but the dark-haired boy doesn’t even look at him.

Maybe he’s just shy, Shiro guesses.

“I’m really sorry,” Thace apologizes again, as he and Shiro moves to the stand. “We are a small school, and they rarely meet famous skater around. And you…”

“I got it. But it’s fine, I’m here for this,” Shiro says sincerely. “Tell me how you planned this trial.”

“I’ll have each kid doing a couple of jumps and spins, to show the technique,” Thace explains. “And then they’ll skate their free program. We start with the novices, and then the juniors.”

“I’m looking towards it.”

The school is small, and it only has ten skaters: six novices and four juniors. It’s clear Thace is doing his best, but he isn’t a real trainer but more a choreograph, as a former dancer, and it’s clear he will prefer a better school for the ones with the most talent.

Shiro takes some mental notes. The kids are good, but he isn’t sure they are good enough for the Garrison.

The shy kid is a junior.

“Keith Kogane,” Thace introduces him. “I shouldn’t have a preference, but he’s my most promising student.”

His technique is good: jumps have the right entrance spot, they’re high and fully rotated, and the spins are fast and peculiar. Not bad at all. Shiro can agree with Thace’s opinion.

But it’s Keith free program that conquers Shiro.

Thace frowns when the music starts. “This isn’t… the music. Maybe there is a mistake…”

He leans towards the railing to check, but Keith starts skating as if the music is the right one, so he sits down again, still unconvinced.

Since he doesn’t add any comment, Shiro guesses Thace doesn’t recognize the music.

After all, Man on the Moon by R.E.M. isn’t a very common choice for skaters.

To Shiro’s knowledge, it was used only one time: by Shiro himself when he won his first junior world championship.

More Keith advances in his skating, more Shiro realizes it.

Keith isn’t skating with Shiro’s music.

Keith is skating _Shiro’s program_.

Shiro’s hands grips his legs as he can’t take his eyes off the ice rink. Possibly, the program is seeing is even better than Shiro’s one, and not only because it has a third quadruple jump (something Keith wasn’t supposed to do, judging by Thace’s snort). Keith seems to have an innate talent and him being in the ice just look natural, as he doesn’t make any effort at all.

When the music ends, Shiro wakes up from a dream.

“I didn’t create this program,” Thace comments. “Keith probably made it by himself.”

“Impressive,” Shiro smirks.

He doesn’t tell Thace the truth behind Keith’s free.

But he _does_ look for him at the end of everyone’s trial. Keith is in the changing room, alone: he waits for everyone else to leave before daring going out, his backpack on his shoulder.

“Nice free program back then,” Shiro teases, appearing behind his shoulder.

Keith doesn’t expect that. He startles, as a cat caught stealing food, but he’s quick to collect himself.

“I won’t apologize.”

“I won’t ask you to.” Shiro takes off from his pocket a visit card, with all the Garrison’s contact and Shiro’s own number. “But I’ll ask you to think about it. You have great potential. What you’re going to do with that potential, it’s up to you.”

***

Garrison is a strictly school. Thace was too, but being a family friend and the coach of a small-town school allowed Keith to get away with a lot of thing. Especially about which jump training and how.

Keith can’t do the same thing at the Garrison. They forbid him to try quadruple jumps until his techniques won’t be perfect, which is a nuisance for one that does triples as he drinks water. The Lutz is particularly annoying from this point of view.

Keith eyes at coach Iverson, who’s talking with another student, and turns around. He focuses on his feeling with the ice, makes a couple of rounds and then goes for an attempt of quadruple Lutz.

He doesn’t manage to do so, and he underotates it, placing a hand on the ground to maintain his balance.

“Hey, watch out.”

It’s Griffin, with an annoyed look on his face.

Saying he and Keith don’t get along is an understatement. Griffin is everything Keith isn’t: friendly, popular, loved by teachers. But Keith has something Griffin hasn’t: Shiro’s support.

Keith would like to be left alone.

“What do you want?” he snorts.

“You almost hit me with your skate,” Griffin replies. “Look where you jump.”

“Look where you skate.”

“It wasn’t a good jump anyway.”

“Kogane,” Iverson calls from the rink border. “I told you not to attempt quadruple jumps!”

“Sorry,” he apologizes, with a small roll of his eyes.

When he turns, Griffin has a smug expression on his face. Keith tries, very hard, to ignore it.

“You know, you’re here just because of Shiro, right?”

“I have more talent than anyone else here,” Keith replies. He saw how they jump, and how they spin: they’re nothing like him.

Griffin doesn’t back off. “Oh, it’s what your daddy tells you-”

In retrospective, punching Griffin isn’t a good idea. There and then, for Keith, it’s the only possible outcome. He never managed to show his father his skating skill: Tex Kogane died on service the night of Keith’s first novice competition. Keith won that match, only to be welcomed by one of his father colleagues and bad news.

No wonder mixing his father with ice skating is a sore argument for Keith.

Still, when Shiro sits down next to him after talking about Keith and Griffin’s fight with the director of the Garrison School, Keith can’t look at him in the eyes.

“I know I screw up,” he blurts out before Shiro can say something. “I should go back to Thace.”

“Thace is a good man,” Shiro agrees. “But if you want to become a competitive athlete, he won’t be enough.”

“Maybe. But this place isn’t for me.”

“That’s not true, Keith. I know you can do this.”

“You don’t even know me!” Keith snaps and regrets a minute later.

Shiro is a star for Keith. He dreamt of meeting him, to skate at his same competitions. Being his friend would be unimaginable. He still can’t quite believe Shiro, of all people, vouchered him for the Garrison school.

“You’re right, I don’t know you,” Shiro nods. “But I saw you skating. You can be great. The best, better than me. And if you need a hand or a second chance, I don’t mind being the one giving it to you.” He places a hand on his shoulder. “I won’t give up on you, but please, don’t give up on yourself.”

***

The smell of breakfast hit Shiro’s nostril and he inhales happily. Krolia is at the counter, but she still manages to notice his arrival.

“Sit down,” she says, without turning. “Keith already finished and went outside to walk Kosmo.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” Shiro says, as he takes his seat.

She throws him a non-impressed look. “After so many time, you should stop being so polite.”

Shiro bites into the first pancake to not answer. It’s not like he doesn’t like Krolia, or he wants to keep her far away. He feels a little guilty that she has to guest him every summer, at the cost to stay at home and turn down ballet exhibitions.

She says she doesn’t mind, that the dance school of her old friend Kolivan needs help and she’s happy to, and Shiro suspects she’s also her way to regain back his relationship with Keith. Because of her work as a dancer, she hasn’t been very present in his life, and things got worse after Keith’s father’s death. Keith training so far from home doesn’t help either.

But Shiro has his own personal drama to face.

_I don’t get why you have to stay_

_So far for summer training_

_I’m pretty sure you will have every_

_Ice rink you need in a place nearer_

_Why not Chicago? I can come to_

_Chicago every weekend_

Shiro releases a small sigh.

_We talked about this_

_Chicago is too big, too crowded_

_I need peace to prepare my programs _

_The best I can_

_You didn’t need it once_

_Well, I do now_

_Can you let me have this?_

_I like in here, more than I liked Chicago_

_And Keith’s there too_

_Well, it would be rude of me staying _

_At his house and throw him out_

_You know what I meant_

_No, Adam, I don’t_

Shiro sighs again. He doesn’t want to enter in another, very long argument about how much Shiro puts skating above everything else, and surely he doesn’t want to drag Keith in this discussion, when it’s only about him and Adam.

_I promise you,_

_I’ll take an entire week off_

_Around the end of July_

_We can go where you want_

_Anywhere, really_

_Just choose_

He hopes it will be enough to reassure Adam about his good intents and let Shiro having his time there to prepare for the next skating season and enjoy his time far from the spotlights.

Adam’s answer doesn’t come soon enough for Keith to return from his walk with Kosmo, the big, giant dog of the Kogane family.

“Are you going to eat outside today for lunch?” Krolia asks.

“Probably.” Keith nods.

“Fine. I’ll be at school if you need me.”

There is still some coldness between the two of them, but they’re working on it. Shiro is pleased to be a witness of their relationship.

“Let’s go?” Keith turns his attention to Shiro, who stuffs his mouth with the remains of the pancakes and drinks the juice to not choke to death, before following Keith outside the house.

The walk towards the ice rink is twenty minutes long, and it’s a pleasant walk especially because the summer isn’t so hot to become unbearable. The town is small, and quiet, something that put Keith more at ease than at Garrison, which is in the middle of a very big city.

“I finally decided my music for the free,” Keith says. “On top of the World by Imagine Dragons. I find it on Youtube and the video is just so fun, I want it on the ice.”

Shiro picks his nose.

“You don’t like it?” Keith looks a little uncertain.

“Oh, no, I think you can pull it off for sure. But, you know, it’s the Olympic season.”

Keith raises an eyebrow. “So?”

“As bad as it sounds, the judges are traditional in their taste, and they become even more severe when the Olympic Games happens. There is a reason why skaters repeat the same, old music choices.”

“This is the reason why you will go with the Phantom of the Opera?”

“Unfortunately, yes.” Shiro shrugs. “That’s why you should go with something more traditional too.”

“You’re talking as if I’m going to the Olympics.” Keith throws him a very skeptical look.

“Why not?” Shiro replies a very innocent expression. “Canada has two spots: Patrick Chan will be the first, but I can’t see why you can’t be the second choice. You’re eligible, too.”

“I’m sixteen.”

“Kimmie Meissner was sixteen when she participated. And she won the Worlds the same year.”

Keith rolls his eyes. “They won’t choose me anyway. I haven’t got great results in international competitions yet, and I’m signed only for the Junior Grand Prix. Reynolds would be the second choice, probably.”

“You can say you don’t want to compete with me,” Shiro muses. “I don’t get offended.”

“That’s not true!” Keith replies in a rush, eyes wide as he, for a second, really believes Shiro’s joke. “I can’t wait to become a senior. And you better be prepared, old timer, because I’m going to beat you.” His threat is joyful, playful.

“I don’t doubt.” Shiro smiles. “Maybe it’s better I enjoy my throne until it lasts.”

Keith smiles back, and it’s warm and affectionate. “I’m still sticking with the basics, so you’ll probably be the first for longer still.” He looks towards him, at the ice rink appearing at the end of the street. “But, just to be prudent, I will choose another music for my free.”

***

Q: Shiro! Congratulations for your victory.

A: Thank you. I’m still pretty overwhelming.

Q: Don’t you expect it?

A: Well, I wanted it. I _fought_ for it. So, in a way, we can say I expected it but, you know, you never know.

Q: So, we’re going to see you at the World Championship?

A: Hey, hey, do you want me to retire already? I’m not that old!

Q: Oh, no, no, it wasn’t it. But some athletes take a break, especially after such a great Olympics.

A: Not me, though. I don’t want to stay put for too long. Plus, I promise my best friend that I won’t lose to anyone until he’ll join the competitions, so, sorry from my fellow skater friends, but I’m not going anywhere from the time being.

Even if Shiro didn’t make a name, for journalists and fans alike it isn’t hard to find out who he was talking about. After all, from Shiro’s Instagram, there is only a junior skater Shiro has photos with, and he’s also a skater Shiro spends a lot of time with.

So, after the Olympics, most of the eyes focus on the performance of Keith Kogane, fresh Junior Grand Prix Champion, at the Junior World Champion.

“It’s your fault,” Keith comments at the phone after his short program.

Shiro’s answer is a long, amused laugh. “It’s not that tragic.”

“I fell on the triple Axel,” Keith remarks. The last time it happened, Keith was a novice. The pressure of people regarding him as Shiro’s future opponent got him at last.

“Keith, you’re _third_,” Shiro says, sweet. “You have plenty of possibilities to surpass others. You can’t win competitions with a short program only.”

“But you can lose them.” Keith huffs. “Maybe I should add that quadruple Lutz.”

“You never landed it in a competition,” Shiro notes. “I’m not saying you can’t do that, but maybe you don’t need it. You have the Toeloop and the Salchow. A great free with these two quadruples should be enough.”

“So you advise me to let the Lutz go?”

Shiro sighs. “Well, first of all, I would prefer you to do so out of love and not out of spite for Griffin.”

Keith snorts. His problems with Griffin haven’t gotten better with time, and the remarks that Keith still has problems to do a Lutz without turning it into a flutz were daily. Keith’s decision to learn the quadruple Lutz before the Loop came from that.

“But to be honest, I don’t care,” Shiro continues. “The only thing I want is to see your free program. Your nice, perfect free with your incredible skating. That’s all.” Since Keith doesn’t answer, he adds, “I want you to let me opened-mouth, just like I did with you years ago.”

“Wait, what?”

“Oh, Ulaz told me,” Shiro says casually. “How it was my ‘Man on the moon’ free program that pushed you into doing figure skating.”

Keith can’t believe Ulaz spilled his dark secret so easily, and to Shiro of all people! “That… It wasn’t…”

“I can’t wait to see your free program tomorrow,” Shiro cuts him.

The positive thing is that nothing else can’t topped that embarrassment. So, the day of his free program, he’s calm and collected on the ice. There only one person on the world whose opinion matters to Keith and he will skate for him.

The music of the “Romeo and Juliet” fills the stadium, and Keith starts moving on the ice. He doesn’t regret that music choice, even if, after he predicted, he wasn’t selected in the Olympic Canadian Team. It helps him to skate in a different manner than usual, but still with a hint of himself: he doesn’t play as Romeo but as Juliet, as his clothes choice manifest.

His first quadruple, the Toeloop, just at the beginning of the program, goes smoothly.

Keith feels good, his skating doesn’t feel heavy in his legs.

And he’s a man of quick decisions: he turns down the quadruple Salchow, and does instead a triple.

Old Keith would have made the quadruple Salchow and then still tried the quadruple Lutz in the second segment of the program.

New Keith knows better. He’s still taking a risk, but a more prudent, calculate one.

The public is following his movement: Keith realizes he can feel their eyes on him, as they applaud at every element he completes, especially jumps.

The quadruple-triple-triple combination almost at the end of the program earns him an especially long and loud applause. Keith smiles, the quadruple Lutz firm in his legs: he does it as the last jump and he ends the program with a big smile on his face.

He ignores Iverson’s frown as he gets off ice. “How was the Lutz?”

“We agreed that you wouldn’t-”

“How was it?” Keith presses, cutting Iverson’s complain.

“…it’s not under review. I think it passes the jury’s check.”

Adrenaline wears off and Keith slumps on the Kiss&Cry, suddenly tired.

The score of 161.67 is welcomed by another loud and satisfied applause. Keith looks at the number and realizes that probably very few of them realize that he just beats Shiro’s record at the Junior World.

“Good job,” it’s Iverson’s brief congratulation, before leaving him. He has another skater to take care off.

Keith limps until the sofa in the waiting room, sweats on his face and hairs, heart beating so fast and loud it resounds in his ears.

“Congratulation, Keith.”

Keith’s eyes widen. “What… what are you doing here?”

“What, do you expect me to not be here for your first world victory?”

“You… You have the World Championship in a week!” Still, Keith restrains a happy sob when Shiro wraps him in a tight hug. “And I haven’t won yet. Two skaters are still-”

“I would be pretty disappointed if beating my record wouldn’t be enough for you to win,” Shiro replies, with a small smile. “Man, I really need to watch my back for next season. That Lutz was something else.”

He doesn’t look worried, or sad. More amused, exciting, and happy.

Keith is so in love. He can’t wait to skate with him.

“Next season, old timer.”

***

_Shiro doesn’t understand. He’s still sleepy, every fiber of his body aches, his eyes are foggy and heavy, and it doesn’t help the light that the man (who is him, by the way?) is sparkling in his eyes. _

_“Can you hear me, Shirogane-san?”_

_He speaks Japanese. How strange. When did Shiro return to Japan? He doesn’t remember._

_“He’s vigil, but I don’t think he is enough awake to understand or to be responsive,” says another female voice._

_Shiro would like to turn his head to look at her, but his body refuses to obey._

_“Please, Shirogane-san, blink two times if you understand me.”_

_Shiro does as he’s told, even if he isn’t sure he understands what’s happening._

_He’s tired. So tired. He closes his eyes again, a thing that apparently starts the panic in the people around him, whoever they are. With fatigue, he opens them again. _

_“Stay with me, Shirogane-san,” says the man. “Do you remember what happened to you?”_

_Shiro licks his lips and coughs. His throat is dry and hard, and the words come out with difficulty. _

_“I was dreaming.”_


End file.
